Refugees
by arabianknight90
Summary: "This is my life. It can never be anything else." Ellie and Joel attempt to carry on their lives after finding out that the Fireflies are not a safe haven. Ellie struggles with vivid and disturbing nightmares and hallucinations as she wrestles with the fact that her life might not ever change. Rated T for violence, some disturbing imagery, and some mild swearing.
1. Chapter 1

**Welcome! This story picks up right where the game leaves off. I'm not worried too, too much about being very accurate to the whole DLC thing as I've not seen/played it. Big thanks to The Last Of Us Wikia for keeping all the helpful information in one place if I forget details.**

**__**

All characters and world do not belong to me. They are the property of NaughtyDog, I'm just having fun here!

* * *

_Swear to me!_

_I swear._

… _Okay._

The last time I checked, swearing wasn't a synonym for lying. I guess Joel didn't use the same dictionary as me. I looked sideways at him as we ate together in the mess hall, then ducked my head before he could catch my gaze. As far as I knew, he thought everything was fine with us. Well, as fine as they had ever been.

"You been sleeping okay?" Maria gently prodded with a concerned half-smile.

If by "okay," she meant lying in bed with my eyes wide open seeing grotesque shapes dancing in the pitch black, or waking up in a cold sweat two or three times a night with a weapon in my hand, or shuddering when I remembered the feeling of shoving my blade into a living thing's body, then yes. I turned my attention back to my food, appetite gone, and shrugged. "Yeah," I replied.

"I know it's not much, but what we've got is yours, and if there's anything we can do to make you more comfortable…"

"No, no, it's fine," I stammered. "It's just…" I glanced at Joel, this time looking him in the eye. His face was cleaner than it had been in months. Cleaner than it had been since I'd known him, that's for sure. But it still held the familiar steadiness behind his strong jaw and multiplying wrinkles.

He broke my gaze and turned to Maria, who was watching us intently. "Everything's fine, Maria, thank you. It just takes a bit of gettin' used to, gettin' a full night's sleep and wakin' up when there ain't nobody tryin' to kill ya."

Maria nodded. "Well you have all the time in the world to get used to it. You can stay with us as long as you wish."

Joel grunted thankfully and we kept eating in silence.

The last few days had passed like the most boring scene in a movie stuck on repeat. Joel and I spent most of our time inside, catching up on sleep and food, and just remembering what it was like to sit in one place for more than an hour without having to look over our shoulders. We usually did anyway, though.

We didn't talk much, just sat. Sometimes we'd take turns flipping a pebble at one another or making drawings out of the other person's scribble. Joel once mentioned off-hand, "You gotta good eye, kid. Steady hand for drawing, too." I didn't really know what he meant by that or why he brought it up, so I decided not to answer.

It was better this way, just the two of us with nothing to say. Whenever Tommy or Maria was around, I always felt the need to think of something to say, and I think Joel did too because he talked more than usual around them. But maybe that was because he thought I was boring and just wanted somebody to talk to. I didn't care, mostly.

One morning, after finishing breakfast in the mess hall, Maria came up to me uncertainly. She was normally a very confident woman, knowing what she wants and not backing down for anybody's business. _I guess kids make her feel uncomfortable,_ I wondered, still surprised that people saw me as a kid. I had gone through as much crap as most people there, and more crap than some.

"Hey Ellie." I nodded back at her in greeting. I hadn't spoken yet today, and some days it was almost a game to see how long I could go without saying something. "Joel tells me you're an artist?" she said a little too brightly. I shrugged. "We could use your help repainting some of the buildings out here… especially the guard towers. Would you mind lending a hand?" Shaking my head, I took my plate to the kitchen and let myself be guided carefully outside by the short blond-haired woman.

"We've got a few people helping, but it'd be nice to have somebody with a little... artistic intuition," Maria said kindly, albeit awkwardly. I took the can and paintbrush she offered and turned to the building, but paused, the blood draining from my face. On the wall was a perfect silhouette of Sam, face frozen in an infected snarl, eyes unfamiliar and distant. My heart stopped and then pounded twice as fast, trying to make up for that one lost beat. I blinked, and realized the silhouette wasn't Sam; it was just a blood stain. A few of the other members of the community looked at me sideways as I steadied my heart rate and began smearing the brown paint over the dried, dark red blood.

I'd seen blood before. Lots of it. The bandits attacked this place often, only to get their brains blasted out against the buildings. I knew that. No need to panic. So why was my hand shaking?

Not a full hour had passed when somebody called at the main gate to let them in. Shortly afterward, a scout I recognized as Perry Stramford came riding through the gate, asking urgently where Tommy was. As he passed by, I caught his eye and was about to nod in acknowledgement when the look in his eye stopped me. The hair on my arms and legs stood up and my spine tingled. Something was wrong.

After he disappeared, I quickly put down my pail and brush and headed toward the mess hall, wondering if Joel would still be there. He wasn't. The kitchen crew was just finishing up the dishes, wiping down tables and turning the shift over to the lunch people. I asked somebody in what I hoped was a nonchalant manner if they had seen Joel. They hadn't. _Useless idiots,_ I scowled.

My next thought was to check the woodshop; I knew in the back of my mind somewhere that Joel had been in carpentry before, and he had expressed a little more interest than usual when Tommy mentioned there being a shop. It was empty of all but an old man whittling away at a stub of wood. _He must be inside,_ I thought, headed across the community toward the small room we shared. A panic was starting to set in. I had been getting better about spending time away from Joel, but now the familiar feeling was back. By now people were looking at me strangely and muttering. Or was it my imagination?

I sprinted up the last few steps to our shared room and burst through the door. Joel jerked from his place in the bed, knife drawn, eyes wild, and teeth bared in a snarl. When he saw it was just me, he took a deep breath and threw down his weapon with a sigh of disgust. "You startled me," he mumbled.

"Sorry." I shut the door behind me and locked it; second nature to me already. "What're you doing?"

"I was trying to get a couple winks in."

"Didn't sleep much last night?"

He shook his head and laid back down.

Suddenly I felt silly. Here I was, after having dashed like a madman throughout the community, just because Perry had looked at me funny. He probably was just having a bad day. Maybe he got attacked by bandits. Or worse, some runners. No wonder people were watching me and muttering. First I'm seeing dead people on the side of buildings, now I'm paranoid about a scout glancing at me before going to report to his superior. _Get a grip, Ellie,_ I told myself.

Joel put an arm under his head and lifted an eyebrow at me, still standing indecisively by the door. "Didja want somethin', kiddo?"

I hesitated, then moved to lay down on my mattress next to his. "Nah, just needed to get away."

* * *

I woke up to an urgent pounding on the door. I hadn't realized I had drifted to sleep. From the look of the sun peering through the window, I had been asleep for the better chunk of two hours. Quickly I reached for my switchblade and scrambled to my feet. Joel was already standing up, a pistol in his hand, the other on the doorknob.

"Joel, open up!" Maria's whisper filtered through the cracks in the wall, and Joel only hesitated a moment before unlocking the door and pulling it open. The wiry woman slipped inside and shut the door after glancing behind her.

"What's going on?" Joel demanded.

Maria just looked at me silently. For the second time that day, the hairs on my limbs reached out to the air, sensing the tension. I felt sick.

"Maria, what is it?" Joel's voice was a low growl, and he took a step toward Maria, forcing her to look at him.

"Ellie has to go," she replied. "The Fireflies released information…"

I barely noticed the parade of emotions across Joel's face through the stampede of my own. "What did they say?" he growled again.

Maria looked at me once more, then back. Swallowing, she said quickly, "They said she's immune. They said she has the cure, and this whole thing could be over if we turn her in. They're offering a reward to anybody who has information on her whereabouts."

Joel swore, then swore again.

I could only think of one thing.

"You have to go, now!" Maria said. "There are already people who know; they're talking to Tommy, but he can only stall them for so long. They could come after you any minute."

Joel let out another expletive with a burst of air.

"Where can we go?" I asked. The question was directed at Joel, but Maria answered. Joel wasn't looking at me.

"I don't know. Anywhere! Anywhere there's not people. The entire world will be after you before long." Maria pursed her lips. "You're lucky I'm letting you go now; it'd be easier if I just turned you in right now."

At that, Joel snarled and made to brandish his pistol, but I lurched forward and grabbed his arm. "Thanks," I said. Maria nodded, then the woman cautiously slipped out the door the way she came.

As Joel and I descended the ladder in the back of the building, there was only one thing I could think of. We grabbed a pair of horses and whatever tack we could lay our hands on, then led them toward the side door, trying to stay as close to the barricade as we could. As we reached the exit, Joel halted, drew his bow, and skewered the man standing guard. He toppled with a hardly distinguishable gurgle and we hurried forward, mounting as soon as we were on the other side of the wall.

Urging our horses toward the concealing woods, there was one thought in my mind.

_This is my life. It can never be anything else._


	2. Chapter 2

**Thanks for sticking with me so far! After this last week of classes, I'll have more time to write more chapters for all the ideas I'm getting!**

**This is a slower chapter that explores Ellie's feelings and addresses the lie that Joel told her. Hope you enjoy!**

**As always, reviews/follows/favs are welcome! :)**

* * *

"_You think you know me? Huh? Well, let me tell you somethin'. You have no idea what I'm capable of." _

_Ellie grabbed the machete and hefted it with all her might against the man on top of her. _

_He rolled off in pain. It was hot. She sat astride him, both hands wielding the weapon of death. _

_Blood. On her face; in her hair; making her grip on the machete slippery. _

_Sickening crunch of bone and flesh giving way beneath sharp metal, again and again and again._

"_Ellie!" Stop._

"Ellie…"

"Don't you touch me!" I screamed, sending a fist flying into Joel's face. He jerked back enough so I didn't hit him square on the jaw, but I clipped his nose pretty good.

"Awww Ellie," he said in a frustrated tone. "It's just me." He gingerly brought a hand up to feel his nose, wincing a bit as he prodded it.

I looked around me sheepishly. I wasn't in an abandoned restaurant that was half in flames. Nobody was trying to hurt me. I didn't need to kill anyone. "Sorry Joel," I muttered sheepishly.

"I'm fine," the big man said, standing up. "I'm gonna have to teach you to hit one of these days."

He started toward the small, smokeless fire blazing in the middle of our sheltered encampment. A rabbit was already skinned and sizzling over the small flames.

"What does that mean? I coulda clocked you pretty good, if I was awake," I called after him.

Joel shook his head. "You mighta been able to bruise me some, but you're not gonna do much damage flailing around like that."

"Well excuse me if I'm too busy trying to save my own skin to think about the proper… proper boxing form."

Shrugging, Joel muttered under his breath, "Just sayin'."

I sat and watched him for awhile. His light brown hair was at least twice as gray as when I had first met him a year ago. His beard was almost all silver by now, too. With creased, weathered hands he reached out to turn the rabbit on its spit. I thought about how tired I felt; tired of running, tired of fighting, tired of killing. And I was only 14. Still, with what had happened the past year and a half, I was surprised my own hair wasn't changing color. Another thought made its way to the front of my mind and I pushed it back, but not before it had made its voice clear. _How long can Joel keep protecting me?_

If what Maria had said was true, the entire world soon would be after me, for one reason or another. People were growing ever more desperate as year after year stretched out since the first breakout. If there was hope of a cure… there's no knowing what they might do.

Joel started humming to himself in his low, rumbling voice as he hunkered down to tend the meat. I looked him over again. Then there was the issue of Joel lying to me. He had said there were dozens like me… Dozens. I wanted to believe him; it would have been so much easier to just believe him. But if there had been dozens, we would've heard about it. I wondered, not for the first time, what had happened back at the hospital while I was drugged. How many people had died? Who? Had they believed in me? In the cure?

Joel turned and caught me staring darkly at him. Shifting uncomfortably, he cleared his throat. "Ellie, before you say anything…"

"You lied to me." It wasn't a question. The accusation and bitterness in my voice cracked Joel's mask a tiny bit and he dropped his gaze. He didn't deny it.

"I couldn't let them take you."

"They were trying to help!" I shouted.

"They didn't even know if the procedure would work!"

"I said it was alright, Joel. I had made the decision!"

"Decision?" the man shouted, standing up. "You're not even fifteen! You can't make those kinds of decisions."

"I can when it has to do with my life!" I took a step forward, glaring at him. "_My _life, Joel, not yours!"

"I couldn't let them… it wasn't worth the risk."

"They were going to save us!" Tears started forming in my eyes and I turned away from him, unable to look at him. "They were going to save us…" I repeated, more of a sob than a sentence.

There was a moment of silence, then Joel put his hand hesitantly on my shoulder. "Nobody can save us, Ellie. We gotta take care of ourselves. They…" He took a breath. "They were gonna kill you, Ellie. They knew that, and they were still gonna do the surgery."

I wiped away a few tears and shrugged out from under his hand to turn and look at him again. "What if I was okay with that? What if I'm tired of running?" There were almost tears in his own eyes as he looked down at me. I knew why he hadn't been able to let them take me. It was the same reason why I panicked every time he was out of my sight. He needed me, as I needed him. "What if, if this is the only kind of life I can have, I don't want it anymore?"

"Ellie…"

"I'm serious, Joel. I don't want to be on the run for the rest of my life, a refugee, hunted."

We stared at each other for a few beats, then a sizzling pop from behind him reminded Joel of the food. He turned and took it off the flames, then prepared a knife to carve it open. My stomach clenched at the smell of food, but I didn't want to eat. I didn't want to do anything. But when he handed me a chunk of meat, I took it and started chewing.

We ate in silence. After putting out the fire and getting rid of the bones and waste of the animal, Joel spoke. "Then we'll just have to find a way to put an end to it."

I knew he meant it. With one look at his strong face, I didn't doubt that he'd go to any measure to keep me safe; he already had. I stood up and tossed a playful punch into his shoulder and he lifted his eyebrow, confused. I attempted a grin. "I guess that means you're gonna have to teach me to fight."


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N This chapter surprised me, as I wasn't planning on writing most of the things that take place in it. But it was fun, so I went with it! :) You all are about to meet some very interesting characters! **

**Again, thanks for reading! Send me a review/follow/fav if you like! :)**

* * *

_Water; "Click… click, click..."; dark._

_Don't move. They know. "Click click…"_

"_Click!click!click!click!" Run!_

I woke up gradually, my mind still wading through the horrors of the night. My body was stiff from sleeping on the ground again after nearly a month in Jackson County with Tommy and Maria. _I've grown soft_, I thought to myself, sitting up slowly with a grimace. It didn't help that last night Joel had taught me some hand-to-hand combat moves. Or rather, gave me as many bruises as my body could hold. I looked over across the dead coals to where he was still sleeping, his back to me. For being such a broad-shouldered, old guy, he was still pretty quick. With a grimace, I rubbed my bruised side gingerly.

I laid my head back down, watching the sky above us slowly turn from a velvety royal blue to a light grey, and eventually a rosy orange. One by one the stars disappeared as the sun rose, bathing the earth in light. I couldn't see the sunrise from our carefully selected shelter of trees, but I could almost imagine it; I hadn't had much time to admire the outdoors lately. I wondered if I ever would be able to look at a sunrise without fearing what the day held, or watch a sunset without dreading the fall of darkness and the onset of enemies that thrived in the night.

Across from me, Joel shifted his body so he was facing me and muttered in his sleep. I could see beads of sweat gathering on his forehead in spite of the nippy morning air. I couldn't make out what he was saying, but his furrowed brow was information enough. I got up and went to wake him from his nightmares, but then paused. Who knows what he would do to me if I woke him suddenly? With a rueful smile, I remembered the last time he had attempted to pull me from sleep's grasp. I paused just out of his reach and was pondering this dilemma when I heard somebody.

It wasn't zombies, that much was sure. For one, they were riding horses, and I'd yet to see a runner clamber on a horse to chase down its victim. And secondly, they were talking to each other. They were talking in lowered tones, but I could still hear them. Which meant two things: they were close, and they didn't want to be heard.

I glanced around frantically, trying to figure out which way they were coming from and where I could hide. The small clearing in which we were currently sheltered, no more than 6 feet in diameter, had a rock wall on one side and was completely surrounded by some sort of tall, leafy trees and thick brush. The sound of voices filtered through the foliage and bounced off the cliff face, destroying all integrity of origin.

Suddenly Joel moaned. My heart rate spiked as I realized he could start talking in his sleep and alert the horsemen of our presence. I couldn't let him sleep. But equally as dangerous was waking him up. A sudden vision of him shouting as I woke him and us being overwhelmed by hunters flooded through my mind's eye for a split second. I heard a horse snort, the sound seemingly coming from right behind me. Joel moaned again, louder this time, and I heard some whispers and the creak of saddle leather as the horses halted. As quietly as I could, I crept over to Joel and placed one hand gently on his shoulder and my index finger across his lips. He woke with a jerk, but thank God it was a silent one. As he glanced around, confused, I looked at him frantically and put my index finger to my own lips, begging him to be silent. He nodded and waited.

Soft whispers made its way to both of our ears, the words barely audible. "Hear that?"

"Yeah," someone else replied. I recognized the voice as Perry's. "The trail disappeared a ways back; if they're still here, they're close."

Still we waited. It seemed like I was crouched next to Joel for an eternity before the horsemen started up again. Once they were out of earshot, I breathed a sigh of relief and relaxed. Joel stood up and started destroying any signs of us being there.

"What, we're leaving?" I said, watching him. "They're gone, they don't know we're here."

"It's only a matter of time before they catch us," Joel replied. "The longer we stay here, the quicker they'll find us. When our trail doesn't pick back up after awhile, they'll double back and run this area over with a fine-tooth comb. When that happens, we'll be in Idaho."

"Idaho?" I replied, following him out of our shelter. "Why Idaho?"

"I know a guy," he said. "If word ain't traveled, he'll help us."

"And if it has?"

Joel hesitated. "Then we'll be no worse off than we are now."

After finding our horses in a separate shelter, we only stopped once when we came across an overgrown grove of apple trees, and after filling our stomachs and our saddle bags, we were on our way again. The next time we stopped, the moon was high above us. I guess I must have fallen asleep somewhere along the way because the last thing I remembered was sleepily navigating my horse around trees and patches of thorns. I looked around us now and saw nothing but rolling plains disappearing into distant mountains. Tall prairie grass rustled in the night breeze, raising goosebumps on my bared skin.

"Where are we?" I mumbled to Joel, a few paces ahead of me.

"You're awake," he remarked before answering my question. "By my guess, we reached Idaho awhile back."

"Mmm," I muttered. "Never been to Idaho before."

Joel shrugged. "Used to be alright. Now it's nothin' but a zombie zoo. They love the open plains by night and the deep mountain caves by day."

A shot of adrenaline woke me up all the way. "And you're bringing us in here why, exactly?"

Joel was silent for a really long time. I'd almost given up on him when he answered quietly. "There's a guy I know, Jack Stills. He and I was what you might call… buddies, in the old days." I nudged my grey beside him, straining to hear what he was saying. "He's a smart guy. Went off his rocker when his sister died, and finally off the charts when the breakout happened."

After it was evident that Joel wasn't going to give me any more information, I said, "So, back to my original question… why exactly are we here?"

Before he could respond, both of our horses skittered and bolted to our left, nearly throwing me off. Immediately after that, we heard hollers in the night. I looked over my shoulder and saw a mob of people, mostly men, carrying guns and bows with notched arrows. Panicking, I urged my grey onward, feeling its sides heaving as it sprinted after a full day of travel. A gunshot exploded in the darkness and Joel's horse, a few lengths ahead of me, stumbled and fell, its neigh renting the crisp air.

Quickly, I tried reining in my horse as I passed him, but there was nothing I could do to override the terror in my mount's eyes. In passing I saw Joel, who had leapt off his horse at the last second. He stood up shakily to face the mob, and I heard him shout "Go!" just before two more shots rang out in my ears. My grey collapsed, and in the blink of an eye I had hit the ground hard and was rolling. A horse's scream was silenced by yet another shot, echoing across the countryside.

It finally dawned on me that they were after the horses, not us, but my world was too topsy-turvy for me to have the presence of mind to figure out why.

When I had finally sorted out which direction was down, I sat up and looked around to find Joel. I saw him running toward me through the grass, limping slightly. By the time he reached me, I had already stood up and checked to make sure I was in one piece.

"Let's go," he said quickly. "They're busy with the horses. We can slip away." I looked over his shoulder and saw a cluster of people surrounding each corpse, excited voices wafting on the night breeze. My dizziness coupled with the sickening feeling that had just settled in my stomach almost made me throw up on the spot. But I grimly forced it down and turned to follow Joel, only to be staring down a man's grinning face behind an unwavering pistol.

"Hold up a minute, stranger," the man said. "We haven't had a chance to properly thank you for your generosity." He gestured with a laugh behind us, where the sounds of knives cutting flesh were all too present in my ears.

Joel looked as if he was about ready to attack the man, but before he could act, a woman came up beside us, holding a 9mm. steady in her hand. Her brown hair was short like a man's, making her large, feminine eyes all the more noticeable. "Ty's right," she said in a low, commanding voice. "Let's escort our guests back to our place. I'm sure they'll be wanting some rest after their little tumble." She leaned in close to Joel and winked, then whispered, "Sorry about that."

I took a possessive stance next to Joel and glared this woman down. I didn't like her one bit, and that patronizing look she shot at me next made me even more determined in my less than friendly feelings for her.

"What's this? Your daughter? How sweet." She looked over at Ty and said, "Bring them to the warehouse and give them a room. I'll talk to Yannis about them when we get back." She whispered something in the man's ear, who nodded and then prodded us forward with his large hand, waving the gun impatiently in the air. "You heard her," he said.

The warehouse was approximately a mile away beside an ancient, overgrown highway. A fence, which had obviously been erected after the original construction of the old warehouse, surrounded it, guarded by men in black carrying more weapons than they could put to use at one time. After being let through the tight security, thanks to the man's clearance ID, he finally led us to a smaller, newer building behind the warehouse that closely resembled what I imagined soldier quarters to be. He quickly unlocked the door of one room, revealing two cots bolted to the wall, a small table and chair, and a flickering lamp in the corner.

Ty holstered his gun and said, "Hope you enjoy your stay. If you need anything, holler for it and you'll be promptly ignored." He laughed harshly at his own joke and then shut the door. There was an unmistakable click as we were locked in, and then finally his receding footsteps left us in silence.

The two of us stood there, me fuming and Joel just standing with an unreadable look on his face. The lantern in the corner flickered ominously, and I shifted my weight from one foot to the other.

"I don't like the look of this, Joel," I said quietly.

He shushed me quickly and then placed the chair beneath the handle of the door. "Get your rest Ellie," he said, gesturing to a cot. Before I could protest, he added, "We can figure this out tomorrow. But we might as well get some sleep while we can. They can't get in without waking us, and neither can zombies. Besides," he gestured to his bag which held all our weapons and supplies. "They left us our stuff."

I nodded, feeling the reassuring weight of my knife and an extra gun in my belt.

"Now get some sleep," he commanded.

Begrudgingly, I climbed onto the platform that could barely qualify as a cot, and slid under the cotton blanket after checking for bugs, or worse. Joel climbed into the other bed, his feet hanging at least six inches off the end. I looked over at him, the space between us easily covered if we were to reach our arms toward each other. It put me a little bit more at ease that they had put us together instead of separating us, but it also nagged at the back of my mind. Why were they being so careless with us? Did they want us to escape? Did they expect to kill us in the morning? Maybe it wasn't all so bad and they were just taking precautions. Maybe they didn't mean us any harm. I scoffed under my breath. _Like that ever happens,_ I thought.

Joel reached up and turned off the lantern, flooding the small room with darkness. Even if there had been a window, there would have been little light as the moon had set half an hour earlier. I laid back and closed my eyes, knowing that every hour I slept meant more strength to face whatever came tomorrow. But in spite of myself, violent images kept crossing my mind, plaguing my thoughts and chasing away sleep, until exhaustion overtook me and I fell into a fitful slumber.

_Time to get Sam; he's slept enough. He might be hungry for her. No, that's not right. Sam wouldn't hurt her. The door is open; he's already standing. Shoulders are crooked, head bowed. Ellie knows, but her brain doesn't yet. _

"_Sam?"_

_He's on top of her, strangling her. Gunshots; yells. His eyes… oh God, his eyes! The stench is already wafting up her nostrils. She can't breath. _

"Sam! No, Sam…" I woke up shaking, tears streaming down my face and mixing with sweat pooling around my head. Joel bolted upright at my shout and looked around, his dark form barely visible in the pitch black of our room.

"You okay, kiddo?"

I took a few breaths to steady myself and nodded. "Yeah, I'm fine." I heard him turn over on his side and settle back down. I wished I was fine. My heart was still pounding and I was sure I wasn't going to be getting any more sleep this night.

I opened my mouth, then closed it uncertainly. After a few more moments of indecision, I slid out of bed, crept across the short distance separating Joel from me, climbed onto his cot and scooted under the covers. Startled, Joel lifted his head and turned to watch me, but didn't say anything to object.

"I'm cold," I said. As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I realized how stupid they sounded, especially since he could probably feel the heat radiating off my sweaty body like a furnace. But he understood.

I didn't have any more nightmares that night.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N Hope you like the new chapter! Leave a review with your thoughts if you'd like:) It's always great to hear from all of you!**

**And happy summer! :)**

* * *

A sound in the early morning woke me up with a jerk. I opened my eyes and found myself mere inches from Joel, his head propped up by his elbow, a cautioning finger against his lips. I didn't have time to reflect on how awkwardly close I was to him before I realized what he was listening to.

Shouts were coming from outside. The walls prevented us from hearing what was being said, but I could tell somebody wasn't happy. I heard a rumble of hurried footsteps as a group of men ran down the hallway by our room and then outside where the shouting was. For awhile it was quiet, then there was a gunshot and more shouts. I looked at Joel worriedly, my body tensing up, but he remained where he was. Finally I made out the thunder of receding hoofbeats as whoever it was left the fenced-in warehouse.

The door to the barracks opened and as a single pair of footsteps approached our room, I slid out of bed and made sure my switchblade was handy. Joel stood up and placed his gun loosely in his belt, then removed the chair from underneath the handle just before a key turned in the lock.

The door opened to reveal the woman we had come across last night. Her face had lost its teasing expression and was now set in a hard grimace. She flung the door open all the way and gestured impatiently. "Yannis wants to see you," she said. Joel and I exchanged hesitant looks, but we each slung a backpack over our shoulders and followed the woman outside and across the enclosure to another, larger building. People walking around eyed us shiftily, and a few looked as if they wanted to talk to the woman who was escorting us, but nobody did. I noticed Joel kept an open hand close to the bulge of the gun in his belt. I resisted the urge to pat my pocket that held the switchblade to reassure myself.

The woman led us into the building, but not away from prying eyes. There was a steady stream of people jostling each other gently as they shuffled through the narrow hallway, trying to avoid our gaze, most not succeeding. I wondered where everybody was going; it didn't look like there was much to do in this encampment.

On either side of the hallway were what I assumed were offices. There were old, faded name cards on the doors, and the few that had windows showed glimpses of cluttered desks long abandoned. At the end of the hall the woman knocked on a door and waited. The faded name card read _James Cotter_ but somebody had tacked on a newer, handwritten name card that said _Yannis Moreau. _

"Enter," came a man's voice with an accent I didn't recognize. Then again, I hadn't been exposed to very many people of different nationalities.

The woman turned the door handle and swung it open, gesturing us inside.

As soon as we walked in, a man sitting behind the desk stood up and ushered Joel into one of the seats. "Sit down, sit down!" he said in his funny accent. I hung back warily, but the woman shoved me into a seat, a little less graciously than the man I assumed to be Yannis.

"Emily," he said warningly. "These are our guests." She snorted, but he turned back to Joel and I, smiling. As far as men went, I supposed people would find him attractive. He wasn't very tall, but he was slender, with dark brown wavy hair, deep brown eyes surrounded by laugh lines, and very symmetrical features. His cleanshaven face revealed a strong jaw and a large smile that affected every part of his face.

I didn't trust him.

"My name is Yannis Moreau," the man said. I had to concentrate to understand him, since most of his "s" sounds were turning to z's, and he put the emphasis on weird syllables.

Joel remained impassive, and I followed suit. Considering the position we were in, it probably wouldn't be smart to let just anybody know who we were.

"I apologize for the treatment you have received in our facility. We don't normally lock up our guests, but we needed to know if you were infected." Yannis flashed a rueful, charming smile. "We have to yet to acquire those handy scanners the military uses in such abundance."

Joel didn't so much as nod.

"I suppose we owe you an apology." Yannis's confidence was fading under Joel's withering look.

"Yup, I s'pose you do," was his reply.

We heard Emily shift her weight from one foot to the other behind us as Yannis started to explain. "The group who attacked you last night was not under my authority. Where I come from, stealing is a grave offense, and what happened last night will be justified, you have my word." Yannis glared at Emily, his brown eyes suddenly becoming cold.

"What do you want with us?" I demanded, ignoring the sorry excuse for an apology.

Yannis turned his attention back to us. "Five men came looking for you two this morning. They were rude and unpleasant, but they offered us money and provisions, both of which are sorely needed in our camp."

I felt Joel stiffen in his chair next to me, and I knew he was prepared to fight his way out if need be. I watched Yannis warily, trying to figure out what he would do next.

Yannis smiled again and continued. "I cannot deny my people food and provisions, you must understand." He took a breath and looked both of us over again. "But I have a debt to pay to you. I will let you leave now; I will accept the men's offer and tell them which way you went, but you must leave as quickly as possible."

"You're letting us go?" Joel asked incredulously. I was still wading through the man's accent, but when Joel spoke, I raised my eyebrows.

Yannis nodded. "I am an honorable man. We stole something of you, I protected you, and now you must go. But before you do, I must show you something."

He stood up and walked briskly out of the office, Joel and I quickly following with Emily right on our tail.

"Do you trust him?" I whispered to Joel.

"Don't have much of any choice," he whispered back, glancing behind us at Emily who was still scowling.

We followed Yannis to the big, old warehouse where he pulled out a key and unlocked a side door. Once we were inside he lit a lamp, and through the gloom Joel and I saw a couple dozen dimly gleaming shapes.

"To help speed you on your way, you may take any one of these you please. We have no use for them," Yannis said.

Joel's mouth dropped open and he wandered through the rows of unused cars, two decades worth of dust accumulated on their once bright and spotless bodies. I followed, my eyes taking in this strange scene, wondering what this would have looked like brand new. Each car was parked in a precise spot, perfectly spaced between its neighbor to allow for the doors to open with ease. Joel reached out and wiped a swath of dust from one smaller car that sat low to the ground. A stripe of red gleamed in the lantern light, and I heard Joel sigh with longing.

"You mean we can take any one of these?" he asked, turning back toward Yannis, who was smiling.

"Of course! As I said, we have no need of these. Each is filled with fuel and in perfect condition, if a bit dirty."

I couldn't believe my ears. "What's the catch?" I said.

Yannis laughed, his voice echoing through the ghostly warehouse. "No catch! Only one condition."

_I knew it_, I thought. _He smiles too much to be trusted. What's he got up his sleeve? _"What is it?" Joel asked, his face immediately guarded.

"I only ask that you forgive us for the crime committed against you," the foreign man said earnestly.

"You've gotta be kidding me," I said, incredulous.

Yannis smiled again.

A few hours later, we were on our way. The car had been wiped down carefully by Joel, who had explained to me that this was some sort of a sports car called a Corvette, and that I was not allowed to drive it. I wasn't sure what sort of sport involved cars, but I had never seen Joel's eyes light up so much as they did when he sat behind the wheel. Every few minutes he shook his head, chuckled, and said, "Well ain't this fine. Just fine."

I was more fascinated with the comfortable leather seats, however, and within a few minutes of leaving, I was asleep.

I dreamt about Yannis, his smiling face hovering in my mind's eye. But soon it slowly began getting twisted and disfigured into the face of a clicker, who tried to force me to drive a bright green car covered in spores.

When I woke up, it was late afternoon and Joel was turning onto a gravel road that led, winding, to a small house nestled at the foot of a mountain.

Joel put the car in park and turned it off, and we sat motionless for a few moments, listening to the clink of the engine as it cooled off.

"Where are we?" I asked.

"Jack's," Joel replied simply. "An' no matter what happens, you let me do the talkin'."

I rolled my eyes. "Another friend like Bill?"

"Sorta," Joel muttered, leaning forward to peer through the car's windows in every direction possible. "Just don't do nothin' abrupt."

Finally he took a deep breath and opened the door, stepping out gingerly. I followed suit, eyes darting every which way.

Before I had even shut the door of the Corvette, a rifle shot splintered the air and echoed through the mountains.


End file.
